


Destress

by mambo



Series: four years of college and plenty of knowledge [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Frat Boy!Bucky, M/M, Punk!Steve, Skinny!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mambo/pseuds/mambo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is stressed. Steve can help with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destress

**Author's Note:**

> From an anonymous Tumblr prompt. I really should've just made all of my short drabbles for this series into one fic. I have regrets.

Bucky is thinking of early 20th century agrarian socialism when Steve jabs him in the side. Hard.

“What the hell?” Bucky asks, more surprised than injured.

Steve is glaring at him, all five feet, four inches of him filled with his typical righteous anger. “Buck, what was I just talking about?”

Bucky bites down on his lip. It’s not an unfair question, but it’s also not fair.

“How much sleep did you get this week?”

“Enough,” Bucky lies, pretending that his laundry hamper is really interesting instead of meeting Steve’s heated gaze.

“Really? Because Jim told me that you _never left_ the library yesterday.”

“Since when did you and Jim start cluckin’ about me like two mother hens?”

Bucky winces. Lack of sleep really does decrease his sassing abilities. And when you’ve chosen Steve Rogers as the love of your life, the ability to give as much as you can get is absolutely necessary.

Steve rolls his eyes, which always takes on this full-body mode of annoyance that Bucky loves and hates in equal measure.

(Okay, he loves it. Just like he loves everything about Steve, even the annoying shit. Like how he steals Bucky’s flannels and returns them dirty or badgers Bucky about drinking so much soda.)

“Not the point, Barnes.” He pauses. “Get on the bed,” Steve says, dead serious.

“C’mon Stevie, it was just a long week. I promise I’ll listen to you. Don’t—“

“James Buchanan Barnes, you get on that bed before I make you.”

Normally, Bucky would try to turn this to his benefit, but if Steve is really going to make him spend their date having Bucky nap, then there’s really nothing he can do. Once Steve sets his mind to something there’s no real stopping him, which is the simultaneous best and worst part of Steve. So Bucky picks himself up off the floor where they’ve been sitting with a heavy sigh and pointed look at the tiny love of his life, then plops himself down on the bed. “Happy?” he asks.

“No,” Steve retorts as Bucky rolls his eyes. “Take off your shirt,” he demands, but his cheeks are getting a little redder and he’s avoiding eye contact. So Bucky obliges. When his t-shirt is laying in a pile next to his bed, he raises an eyebrow. “Okay, now lay down, but on your stomach.”

Bucky does so.

“What now?” he asks, half-listening to the way Steve climbs up onto the bed. He can feel Steve’s bony knees knocking into either side of his hips, Steve’s long, cold fingers running up and down his back.

“Now you relax,” Steve says, rolling his hands into fists and kneading them into Bucky’s back.

Bucky can’t help but _groan_. For whatever reason, Steve’s got magic hands—or maybe it’s just that Bucky has enough knots to keep a group of deft sailors busy for months—and he’s hitting all of the right spots, fingers working their way through what feels like years. It could be minutes or hours when Steve says, “Tell me.”

“‘Bout what?” Bucky mutters into his pillow.

“What’s stressing you out so much.”

Bucky groans, but not in the good way. “That’s no fun. How about we talk about what we’re gonna do after you finish this massage.”

He can feel rather than see Steve rolling his eyes, then he _definitely_ feels Steve jabbing his thumbs into his side. Bucky yelps, then Steve says, “Unless you fess up you’re going to bed without anything but your sock.”

“That’s cold, Rogers,” Bucky says, even though he’s honestly too tired to do more than make-out a bit and maybe get Steve off. Still, it’s the thought that counts.

“Buck…”

“Fine,” he says, sighing. Steve goes back to massaging, which is enough to get Bucky to say, “I gotta find a way to connect agrarian socialism to print miscommunications in Chicago without actually havin’ the pamphlets they were usin’, figurin’ out how I’m gonna pay my ridiculous tuition bill when the library’s shafted me on hours this month, and why my amazin’ boyfriend wants me to talk about this crap when we could talk about better stuff.”

“Like what?” Steve asks, hands moving dangerously low.

Bucky exhales loudly. “You got an A on your web design project, right? Why don’t we talk about that.”

“Don’t wanna,” Steve says, moving his hands up to Bucky’s neck. Bucky lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “What’s going on with work?”

“Fell asleep on the job _briefly_ ,” Bucky replies, trying and failing to keep the bitterness from his voice. “But my supervisor caught me. She decided that I had to be worried about or somethin’, so she decided that I won’t get the late shift again ’til next semester.” He sighs. “I mean, it’s comin’ from a good place, but I’m just frustrated with myself.”

“That’s only a month, Buck. You’ve got your tuition paid, right? Then you could use the break.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Bucky mutters. “‘Sides, aren’t I supposed to be the rational one? Why can’t I give _you_ reasonable advice?”

Steve chuckles, his low voice welcome and comforting. He stops massaging to lean down close to Bucky’s ear. “Dunno Buck, sometimes you make me feel pretty irrational.”

Bucky snorts. “Jesus Christ, kid. That’s gotta be one of the seven least sexy things you’ve ever said.”

Steve jabs Bucky’s side. “C’mon, I’m trying to make you feel better. And don’t call me kid.”

“Just havin’ you here is nice,” Bucky admits. Steve runs a hand through Bucky’s hair and Bucky tries not to shudder, to lean into the touch and demand more. “Love is pretty irrational, I guess.”

Steve kisses the back of Bucky’s neck, sending a prickling sensation down Bucky’s spine. “Think we’re doing okay.”

Bucky shuts his eyes. “Yeah bud, I think we’re doin’ alright.”


End file.
